Midnight Sneak
by evilqueenmayor731
Summary: Robin has helped Regina sneak into the palace and disable the protection spell. Night has fallen, but he cannot sleep. What is keeping him awake, and what will he do about it? Started as a one-shot but has grown. Unsure of how many chapters will follow.
1. Chapter 1

Robin couldn't sleep. It wasn't because he was inside a castle instead of his customary camp in the forest. It wasn't because the bed was uncomfortable, or that the sheets were scratchy. Robin couldn't sleep because he couldn't stop thinking about Regina. When he closed his eyes, he saw her face, eyes filled with tears, seconds away from sending herself into eternal slumber. After several hours of staring at the ceiling, he concluded that he would not be able to sleep until he'd checked on her. She had departed for her chambers immediately after relaying her encounter with the Wicked Witch to Snow and her prince, without so much as a 'good night' or, as would have been more appropriate, a 'thank you'.

He sat up and swung his legs out of bed. A few feet away, in another smaller bed, Roland slept peacefully, his tiny hands clutching the stuffed monkey Regina had given to him. He hadn't stopped running his fingers through its soft fur since the moment he'd first held it. Even in his sleep, Roland's fingers worked through the fur, making Robin smile at how precious he looked.

Robin stood and walked to the door in his socked feet, then as quietly as possible opened it, stepped out into the hall, and closed it behind him. Stealthily he made his way down the corridor, the halls dark save for the occasional ensconced torch sputtering its last flames. Unbeknownst to Regina, he had followed her earlier when she'd excused herself for the evening. His instincts had told him that he needed to keep an eye on her, and that required knowing the location of her chambers.

That knowledge came in handy sooner than he'd thought. He stopped outside her door, uncertain about how to proceed. Should he knock, and risk waking her if she were asleep? Considering the late hour, that seemed likely. And if she happened to be awake, it was even more likely that she would tell him to leave her alone. He decided that she could tell him whatever she liked – it didn't mean he had to listen. Still, his goal was not to disturb her, but simply to set his mind at ease that she was well, and hadn't succumbed to her anguish and found another way to curse herself – or worse. She didn't seem the type who would take her own life, but admittedly, he barely knew her.

Decision made, he rapped lightly on the door with his knuckles – so lightly that only someone standing immediately inside the door would hear it. He received no response. Encouraged, he carefully pressed down on the latch and opened the door, peeking his head just inside. The room was large and filled with armoires and a dressing table, and had a large opening out onto a balcony that, thankfully, was allowing moonlight into the room. The night was partly cloudy but the moon full, and even the filtered light allowed him to see partly into an adjoining room – the bedchamber. A figure lay upon the bed and, feeling secure that it was she whom he sought, he entered the room, silently closing the door behind him.

He gingerly stepped over to the entrance to her bedchamber, his steps silent in the way only a trained thief's can be. At the foot of her bed he stopped. He could see that she was indeed sleeping. She was curled up on her side in nearly a fetal position, as if she'd been in pain as she drifted off. Only her feet were underneath the bedcovers, and the bed and floor next to it were littered with used, crumpled tissues. Seeing something odd, he stepped around the side to get a closer look. Her regal gown was gone, replaced with one more suited for sleeping, made of light gray silk. Across the bodice were scattered small, dark spots, and from his closer vantage point he could see that her pillow was marked with more of them. A cloud moved from in front of the moon, allowing its full brightness to fall upon her. Her face was flushed pink and her eyes were swollen. He saw then what had caused the spots, as another rolled from the corner of her eye and down the bridge of her nose. Tears. She had cried herself to sleep, and not very long before he'd arrived, judging from the way her damp cheeks shone in the moonlight.

As smaller clouds moved across the moon, light rippled across her face, and he couldn't help but think she looked incredibly beautiful. The woman he'd broken into the castle with, she had been attractive, yes, he wouldn't deny that. But now he was seeing the real Regina – no makeup, no overly styled hair, no shield – just a mother who missed her child. He looked at her and saw her heart, not her swollen eyelids or rumpled hair. His own heart ached for her. He wished there was something he could do to help her, to ease her pain, but he knew from losing his wife that time was the only thing that could help her.

For the moment, he contented himself with pulling the covers up and over her. He couldn't assuage her pain, but he could make sure she didn't wake up cold. Silently he made his way out of her chambers and back to the room he was sharing with his son, satisfied that, for that night at least, Regina would be all right.


	2. Chapter 2

Robin returned to Regina's chambers the next night, and the night after that, and so on until weeks and then months had passed. Each night he stayed longer, sat closer, observed more of the woman who only came out at night while the Queen slept.

The time he loved the most was when she dreamed. Her nose wrinkled and twitched like a rabbit sniffing for a carrot. Frequently she would call out for Henry; less often for her father or her mother. And only once for a man named Daniel. He gathered from the way she said his name – soft, breathy, filled with yearning – that he had been someone very close to her.

On the opposite end of the spectrum were her nightmares. He had hoped that with time they would come less frequently, but that proved to be an unfulfilled wish. He knew the dream was a bad one when she'd scowl and move her head back and forth as if saying 'no' even in her sleep to what her mind was dragging her through. Each time he contemplated waking her, taking her into his arms and comforting her, but he refrained. If he had been thinking logically, he would have seen that what happened that fateful night had been inevitable.

She was sleeping with one arm over her head, as he'd learned she did whenever she was lying on her back. She started to mumble, sounds not quite forming words. From where he was sitting on the floor he could only watch and wait, and fight the internal battle he fought every time. When she began kicking he rose to his feet, determined that this time he would have the courage to save her from her torment. She saved him the trouble.

She woke with a strangled scream and sat up, her tousled hair falling into her eyes. She was breathing hard and looking straight at him but not quite seeing. She blinked several times, and as the nightmare faded from her mind, the reality of who was standing in front of her blazed into view.

"You," she said, still breathless but her words were heavy with venom. "What are you doing in my chambers?" With a wave of her hand her robe appeared in her lap, and as she pulled it on and tied it tightly around her midsection she glared at the intruder.

"You were shouting in your sleep. I was concerned" he replied, choosing his words carefully. He was reluctant to lie to her despite it being a necessity.

Her eyes narrowed as she swung her legs out of bed. "A likely story." Yes, she'd been having a horrendous nightmare. One in which everyone she'd ever loved lay dead on the ground around her. Daniel, Henry, her father, even her mother. She could see the murderer, face covered with a hood, bloody knife in hand, standing just a few steps away. She charged him and ripped off his hood – only to see her own face smiling back at her. Their deaths had come at her own hand.

"How did you hear me?" she asked. "No one is staying in this wing." She had made sure of that from night one.

_Think fast, Hood_, he thought. "I couldn't sleep. I was taking a walk to clear my head when I heard you shouting." That was also remarkably close to the truth, though he'd known exactly where he was going when he'd struck out.

She rose from the bed and closed the distance between them in three short strides. "Do you want to know what I think?" She didn't wait for him to answer. He was going to hear it whether he wanted to or not.

He might be surprised to know that she had noticed him looking at her when he thought she was unaware. Between his near-constant ogling and Snow dropping hints about him left and right, she'd known of his interest in her for weeks. He didn't know that she knew – and he didn't know that she found him incredibly attractive despite his significantly lower status.

"I think once a thief, always a thief," she said, glaring at him. She felt uncomfortable. She felt suspicion, and a subtle lack of control. He was infuriating.

"I simply came to… well, to make sure you were alright," Robin said, acutely aware of just how close she was. His hands clenched into fists in order to keep from grabbing her by the waist and pulling her against him.

She laughed. "You think I need you to ensure my safety? I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."

His expression softened. "But wouldn't it be nice if you didn't have to?" He took a step closer. "Think of all you could do, if you didn't have to protect yourself all of the time. Protect your heart."

Her heart was not something Regina was willing to discuss, especially not with him. From their first night breaking into the palace she had known that he understood her pain so well that he might possibly be able to help her overcome it, and that was something she couldn't allow. Letting go of the pain of losing Henry would mean forgetting him, and forgiving herself for everything she'd done that had let up to her having to give him up. The only option she saw was to shut him up.

She grabbed his shirt with both hands and pulled him over the small distance to press her lips to his in a heated kiss. He was so stunned that by the time he realized he should be kissing her back she had pulled away and was searching his eyes for some kind of explanation as to why he hadn't responded physically. His eyes fell from hers down to her lips, and this time it was he who delved in, kissing her deeply. By the time they parted again, they were both breathless.

Regina released his shirt and licked her lips, confident she'd accomplished her mission. She saw desire in his eyes; she'd felt it in his lips, in the brush of his tongue against hers. He couldn't possibly still be thinking about her heart.

"Your majesty, I can assure you I have no intention of stealing anything from you," he rasped, more than a little surprised he could still form a coherent sentence.

"You can't steal what's been given to you," she said with a smirk.

He chuckled and nodded, then backed away from her slowly. It was time for him to take control of the situation for once. A line appeared between her brows, an indication of her confusion and annoyance. He wasn't supposed to leave. Not until she was done with him.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked, that familiar venom laced underneath the veil of want.

"I must get back before my son realizes I'm gone." Roland was a very convenient excuse, and one he knew should would not argue with. He reached the door and opened it from behind his back.

"You owe me an apology," she said, her anger rising. Behind her candles flickered to life.

"Yes, I suppose I do," he answered with a smirk of his own. He stepped out into the hallway, then put his head back in the room for one final missive.

"Good night, your majesty."


End file.
